


Room 50A

by eruriku



Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: F/M, Gen, if this gives off a Friends vibe then my job here is done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eruriku/pseuds/eruriku
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kagome and Miroku, residents of 50B, are intrigued by their new neighbors at 50A. Probably a little too intrigued. [Modern AU, Friends style]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. @Fact

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own a thing, I was just sick, delirious, and watching too many old Friends episodes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @Fact || 8:58 AM - 9 Sep 2015  
> Having sex can unblock a stuffy nose.

The joke wasn’t as funny when Kagome actually took his words seriously and bolted from the couch.

“Whoa!” Miroku exclaimed. “Kagome, where are you going?”

“To have sex!” was her astonishing response.

“Wh–it was a joke, Kagome! A joke!” Miroku frantically shoved his chair backwards and stumbled off of it in his haste to catch up with his roommate.

“Even jokes can help at this point,” Kagome called back, stuffy nose and all. Miroku caught a glimpse of her bundled form slipping out of their living room towards the entrance of their shared apartment and hurried after her.

“Kagome, would you listen to yourself? It was a _tweet_ , from an _American_ account no less, it probably isn’t even true!” Miroku said, stomping after Kagome.

“The account is called _Fact_ , and that’s good enough for me,” Kagome replied, sneezing violently at the end of the sentence.

“Ka–this is ridiculous, would you go back to your room? You’re gonna hurt yourself,” Miroku begged Kagome, finally catching up with her at the front door. She was slipping into a pair of sneakers he was sure were his while she glared up at him.

“Don’t you talk to me like that, or I will drive every single girl you bring home far away from this city,” she threatened as viciously as she could standing in Miroku’s sneakers, dressed in her pajamas and a hoodie that stunk of bedridden sickness. Still, the threat was effective and Miroku flinched at the thought of Kagome scaring away all of his potential evening companions.

“I’m sorry! Okay? I’m sorry, now would you _please_ come back inside and I’ll make you some more soup. What do you say?” He waited with open hands and bated breath for Kagome to step out of his sneakers and away from the front door. Kagome studied him with a blank look on her face, pondering his words before her face contorted with the features of someone who really needed to sneeze. So she did. Four times.

“You see?” Miroku persisted. “You’re in no condition to even leave this apartment. Forget the tweet. Come back inside!”

Kagome raised a weak hand to shoo Miroku away and reached for the door handle.

“No. No, I’ve made up my mind. I have an incredibly important phone call tomorrow morning and I _cannot_ afford to wake up sounding like this!” She gestured at her throat with both hands to emphasize her point and Miroku found that he couldn’t really argue with her. She _did_ sound pretty shit. It was a miracle he could still understand what she was saying in her delirious and stuffy state but that was probably just a testament to how long they’d known and been living with each other.

Before he knew it, Kagome had pushed the front door open and was shuffling outside the apartment into the warm and humid atmosphere of a Japanese summer evening.

“Kagome!” he lunged after her into the hallway in his bare feet and loose sleepwear.

“‘Having sex can unblock a stuffy nose,’” Kagome recited, walking purposefully, albeit a little unsteadily, to their next-door neighbor’s front door. “We both know there is no way on heaven and earth that I’ll ever sleep with _you_ –” Miroku’s eyes twitched at the low blow, “–so maybe one of our neighbors will be so kind as to help me out for tomorrow’s job interview!”

“You’re going to embarrass yourself,” Miroku warned her, keeping a safe enough distance so that he could support her if she stumbled, and still make a run for it if she decided to take out her fever-induced stress on him.

Kagome stopped right before their neighbor’s door and, despite the fact that she probably (scratch that, _definitely_ ) wasn’t thinking straight at the moment, still managed to shoot Miroku a familiar, unamused look. He noted that it was the one she normally gave him whenever he’d either said or done something particularly perverted.

“You know, you can stand there,” Kagome said accusingly, “and pretend you’re worried about our reputation as tenants in this building, but we both know–” she paused to swing her finger back and forth between pointing at Miroku’s chest and then back at hers “–that you want to see what’s going to happen, _don’t_ you, you lech?”

Miroku laughed uneasily. Really, she knew him too well.

“Now,” Kagome stood up straight and knocked an awkward, mismatched rhythm. “Aren’t these the three hot soccer guys?”

“They moved out two weeks ago,” Miroku reminded Kagome, though if it were any other day, she would totally have remembered. (After all, they’d both helped the guys move out and Kagome had been adamant about serving them a nice, big meal for their lunch break.)

Kagome knocked once more but her fist stopped abruptly and rested on the wood of the door at Miroku’s words.

“You’re joking, right?” she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly towards him. “Then who the heck even lives here?”

The answer to her question came as the door opened inwards into the interior of apartment 50A and she fell forward, almost completely losing her balance.

There was a series of yelps - two, to be specific - one of which Miroku identified as Kagome’s but another also feminine one that he didn’t recognize. He moved forward to steady his friend, placing one gentle hand each on her waist and on her shoulder. Kagome shot him a quick look that promised to _kill_ him should he try anything other than keep her on her feet.

“I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” Both Kagome and Miroku looked up and simultaneously dropped their jaws at the stunning, remarkable, _otherworldly_ human being in front of them.

She was of average height and slim build but far from frail, if the wiry muscles running along her arms were of any proof. She had long brown hair and was wearing it down so it fell to her mid-back, and from the looks of the straightness of the ends, she probably just had it cut recently. But, at least to Miroku, the best part of the image the woman painted was that she seemed to be wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that ended just above her knee, revealing the curve of her calves, the swipe of her heel, and the ends of her toes, which were painted a combination of solid pale greens, pinks and lavenders.

Miroku realized that he and Kagome had been staring for a little too long at that point but he honestly found it much too difficult to care.

“Well,” Kagome muttered in front of him. “Not what I expected but I can definitely work with you.”

Miroku squinted his eyes at Kagome and their lovely neighbor frowned a little in confusion before speaking up again.

“Can-can I help you with something?” she asked.

Kagome held onto Miroku’s arm to pull herself up to her full height in order to look at the woman properly.

“Yes! Yes, actually, I’m Kagome from 50B,” she began, “and I was wondering if you could–”

“–We’re out of milk!” Miroku interrupted Kagome. “And, so sorry to bother you, but we were hoping we could borrow some.” Kagome whipped around to glare at Miroku but ended up sneezing directly into the front of his shirt.

“Oh. Oh, sure,” the woman said. “Why don’t you come inside?”

She retreated into the apartment and left the door open for them to follow her in.

“Milk?” Kagome asked Miroku mockingly in a hushed voice as they entered the apartment.

“Sex?” Miroku retaliated. Kagome stuck her tongue out at him spitefully as she followed the woman with Miroku right at her heels.

“Excuse me?” the woman interrupted from the open kitchen just before the other two could really start going at each other’s throats.

“Excellent wallpaper!” Miroku all but yelled, gesticulating wildly at the walls of the woman’s apartment. Kagome groaned silently to herself but the woman just smiled in amusement, albeit a little hesitantly, and gave Miroku a weird look.

“Um, thanks,” she said, bending over to open the refrigerator door, giving both Kagome and Miroku a wicked view of her ass, which was unfortunately still covered by the massive t-shirt. “My roommate actually picked it out. He’s in here somewhere.”

“Oh, he is?” Kagome asked, suddenly intrigued.

“Yeah, he’s not the most polite guy–oh my god, where are my manners?” the woman reached up to touch her temple in embarrassment.

“I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Sango, and my roommate - wherever he is - is Inuyasha,” she said.

“What kind of name is ‘Inuyasha’?” Kagome snorted, sniffling as she giggled.

“And,” Miroku asked Sango, “not that it’s any of my business but what exactly is your relationship with him?”

Sango raised an eyebrow at her two strange neighbors, just about ready to give them the milk so they could leave her the hell alone before a door swung open with a deafening _bang!_ as it hit the wall and revealed an angry, silver-haired roommate.

“You got a problem with my name or with me, then you can get the fuck out of my apartment,” the man growled, his tone impatient and annoyed.

Kagome turned to greet the other roommate - Inuyasha, _hah_ , what a name - and was about to tell him just what she thought of his name and his awfully rude attitude when she fully laid her eyes on him.

Perfect.

Yes, she could definitely work with this one.

His silver hair - a strange color but he pulled it off _very_ well - was long and probably ran down to just above his butt if it weren’t tied back in its current messy ponytail. A few strands had come loose towards the front of his face and fell across his forehead and down the sides of his cheeks. He was wearing a matching pair of off-white pajamas that had what appeared to be little brown puppies all over it. He wore the pants low on his hips and the button-up shirt wasn’t buttoned up at all if Kagome was seeing clearly, and she so hoped she was seeing clearly.

“Miroku, don’t wait up for me,” Kagome mumbled to Miroku, who could just barely make out her words between the low volume and her stuffed nose.

“Kagome, don’t do this,” Miroku moaned, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose as if he couldn’t bear to witness the inevitable. (Oh, please. Kagome knew he’d be peeking. He wouldn’t miss this for the world.)

“It was lovely to meet you,” Kagome said to Sango, who could only frown at her before Kagome spun on her heel unstably and shuffled up to Inuyasha. The closer she got to him, the more Inuyasha seemed to shrink into himself and away from the stranger in the green pajamas who seemed to be carrying the plague with her.

“What-what the hell are you doing? Who are you?” he stammered, inching away from the sick girl as she closed even more distance.

“I’m Kagome,” she greeted, her eyes a little red with sleepiness and her voice drowsy with fatigue, “and I need your help.”

“What do you think you’re doing?” Sango called from behind her, her eye twitching irritatedly.

Miroku, still pinching the bridge of his nose, opened his eyes. He wasn’t going to miss this for the world.

Once Kagome had walked right up to Inuyasha and pretty much collided into his chest, she reached up to grasp at the collars of his pajama shirt (with a surprisingly strong grip for someone so ill) and dragged him down to kiss him. But she never got the chance.

“Whoa! What the _fuck_?!” Inuyasha exclaimed, yanking his head away from Kagome with all his might and turning his face as far as possible from her disease-ridden lips. “You’re sick, aren’t you?! What the hell’s the matter with you!?”

Miroku couldn’t help but snort at his roommate, a sound that didn’t escape Sango’s notice.

“Who _are_ you people?!” she demanded, her hand subtly inching to a drawer behind her.

“Hey, hey, relax, we don’t mean you any harm,” Miroku said, raising two hands placatingly as he noticed Sango quietly open a drawer full of kitchen knives.

“Really?” Inuyasha yelled from across the room. “Because your friend here seems pretty keen on infecting me with whatever the fuck she has!”

“Having sex!” Kagome yelled loudly all of a sudden, making Inuyasha wince. “Can help unblock a stuffy nose!”

The other three individuals watched in silence as Kagome untangled herself from Inuyasha’s pajama top and backed away slowly, a completely distressed and shattered look on her face. Her bottom lip started to tremble and Miroku feared the worst when she backed into a sofa and her knees gave out, forcing her to collapse onto the sofa’s pillows and break out into violent, wet sobs.

Inuyasha stared at the girl incredulously before glaring at Sango and Miroku, his eyes shooting a fiery _What the fuck?!_ in their direction. Miroku flinched under his gaze and approached his roommate.

“I’m sorry about this–” he began.

“Miroku, my interview is tomorrow!” Kagome wailed, interrupting him. “It’s tomorrow and I sound like _shit_ and I just know I’m going to say all the wrong things!”

“She sounds pretty sick,” Miroku heard Sango mumble to Inuyasha, who’d tiptoed away from the general disaster surrounding Kagome.

“No shit, Detective,” Inuyasha mocked. “How could you let these people in? What were you thinking?”

“They’re our neighbors! I was trying to be nice! I didn't think one of them had to be quarantined and sterilized!”

Inuyasha groaned and smothered his face with his hands, rubbing from his jaw, to his cheeks, and ending at the top of his head. He glanced at their neighbors again, at the dark-haired man who was rubbing his sick roommate’s knee soothingly, muttering soft words of comfort, and at the dark-haired girl who clutched at the strings of her hoodie tightly while trying to catch her breath with a stuffy nose, all the while sniffling about a “stupid tweet” and being “lonely and unemployed” and “a dishonor to her family”. Maybe it was the extremity of the last bit he heard or maybe it was just pity for the girl and her poor sucker roommate, but whatever it was, Inuyasha felt his resolve crack a little and he sighed heavily, turning to Sango.

“Could you get my medicine from the top drawer?” he requested, turning away to retrieve a tissue box from the closet.

“You mean that gross stuff you always give me?” Sango wrinkled her nose dubiously but did as requested and reached up to retrieve a bottle of the dark liquid.

“Say whatever you like, you know it works like a charm,” Inuyasha called back.

Miroku looked up from consoling his friend, startled by the sudden activity of the apartment’s residents.

“Here,” Sango said, appearing next to Miroku with a bottle of black medicine and a tall glass of water. She thrust the liquids towards Kagome and crossed her arms after Miroku took them from her.

“Drink the whole bottle in one go. It’ll work best that way.”

Kagome peered up at the woman before warily eyeing the bottle Miroku held for her.

“Trust me,” Sango continued. “If anything’s going to help you get better in time for your interview tomorrow, it’s this.”

That settled it. Kagome took the bottle, which Miroku had unscrewed open for her, sniffed the opening, and promptly gagged, shooting Sango a disgusted look. Sango in turn only shrugged and gestured for her to get on with it.

Steeling herself, Kagome took a deep, if not shaky, breath before chugging the bottle, cringing the entire time as she tried to ignore the acrid, bitter taste.

When she resurfaced from her quick but revolting journey, she found that not only could she breathe more easily, she could also see and think more clearly. The first thing she saw was the face of the man she’d pretty much harassed. A blush that had nothing to do with her sickness colored her neck as he loomed down in front of her, practically shoving Miroku out of the way to inspect the effects of the medicine.

“Here, blow your nose,” he said, holding up a box of tissues. She did as he said and when she spoke afterwards, her voice was no longer as clogged or nasally as it was just a few minutes ago. Her eyes still stung and her cheeks were still blotched red from crying but that would go away with a few hours of sleep.

“Um, look,” Kagome began weakly, stuffing the tissues in the pocket of her hoodie. She handed the bottle back to Miroku and took the glass of water from him. “All that stuff earlier … I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Clearly,” Inuyasha scoffed quietly. Kagome frowned at him a little and Sango cuffed him roughly on the shoulder before she continued.

“I’m so sorry for bursting in like this and causing trouble. I can’t tell you how embarrassed I am,” Kagome apologized meekly.

“How embarrassed _we_ are,” Miroku amended cheerfully, not sounding the least bit embarrassed. “But, we won’t bother you anymore. We best be going now anyway. Thank you _so_ much again for your hospitality and the medicine and the tissue and for almost having sex with my adorable roommate so she’d feel better for her phone interview tomorrow.”

Inuyasha blushed at Miroku’s words and shot to his feet, stepping away from Kagome to put space between them. Kagome’s eyes widened and she lowered her gaze, taking large gulps from the glass of water to avoid any unnecessary eye contact.

“Um, whatever. Don’t mention it,” Inuyasha mumbled. “Really, don’t mention this to anyone.”

Sango reached down to steady Kagome by the elbows and helped the girl rise to her feet and walk slowly to the door with Miroku and Inuyasha following close behind.

“You should take better care of your friends, you know,” Sango admonished Miroku gently as they approached the entrance of the apartment.

“Ma’am, I really don’t think you know Kagome like I do,” Miroku explained easily. Sango narrowed her eyes at him as she opened the front door.

“Don’t call me ma’am,” she said sharply before turning to Kagome. “And I don’t think you’ll need it but if you want more of that medicine, you know where to find us.”

She offered Kagome a friendly smile which Kagome returned gratefully.

“I’m so sorry again,” Kagome mumbled, humiliation written all over her face, which was slowly regaining a healthier color. Sango laughed genially.

“Don’t worry about it. At least things have finally gotten interesting in this building.”

Miroku gently ushered Kagome out the door so they could take the four or five steps to get home when they were stopped by Inuyasha’s voice.

“Hey, you - Kagome, right?” Inuyasha called out to Kagome, fidgeting with something behind his back.

“Yes?” Kagome looked at him anxiously. She still couldn’t quite piece together the evening’s recent events. Yes, he was well built ( _so_ well built). Yes, he had an intriguing voice, and yes, she wanted to hear it again. Yes, he was so pretty she wanted to cry. _No_ , she couldn’t believe she indirectly asked him to have sex with her so she could breathe for a phone call tomorrow.

“Don’t leave the apartment tomorrow if you can help it. And wear this,” he revealed what he was messing with behind his back, a white filter mask, like one of the cheap ones you could get at any drugstore or hundred-yen store. Kagome was pretty sure she and Miroku had a few stashed in their own medicine drawer but the gesture was sweet and it certainly helped to ease the tension between the four of them. She took the mask and offered him a small smile. Inuyasha blinked at her before looking away and rubbing at the back of his neck bashfully.

“Now, g-go home and go to bed before you infect the rest of us,” he stammered dismissively, ignoring the curious look Sango was throwing him.

As Miroku and Kagome wished them goodnight and headed home, Inuyasha’s ears picked up Kagome asking Miroku, “You gotta make them a batch of your cookies as our way of saying sorry, okay?”

Inuyasha scoffed and shut the door quickly, mumbling to himself about his weirdo neighbors. He stalked away from the entrance and back to his bedroom where he’d been falling asleep before said weirdos had barged into his and Sango’s lovely abode.

“Remind me again _why_ we moved here,” Sango requested, still staring at the door in amusement.

“Good view, good location, high floor. It was a good deal, remember?” Inuyasha replied without even turning around.

“I don’t remember weird, lively neighbors being part of that deal,” Sango said, heading to the living room where she’d been reading prior to their neighbors’ visit.

“Well, clearly, it is,” Inuyasha said, stopping at the threshold of his bedroom door and giving Sango a tired look. “And weren’t you the one who said they’ll at least make things a little more interesting in this building? It’s about time, isn’t it?”

Sango rethought her own words. It _had_ been quiet ever since they moved into apartment 50A and she was glad for a little bit of noise.

As Inuyasha bade her a yawning good night, Sango settled back with her book, flipping through the pages to find where she’d left off, the two dark-haired individuals still in her mind. She had a strange feeling that she’d be seeing them far more often than the average neighbors and that her and Inuyasha’s lives were going to get beyond just “interesting”.

She wasn’t worried though, not in the slightest. On the contrary, she was glad for it. And she had an inkling Inuyasha was too.

 

 

_\- fin -_


	2. soundproof

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an annoyance living above the residents of 50A and 50B.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Lali, with special thanks to Qistina.

****"I want to _kill_ him."

Miroku resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his roommate, even if she couldn't see him at the moment. He allowed himself a short sigh and raised his eyes towards the ceiling – or perhaps the heavens – in exasperation.

"Is it really so hard to just ignore the guy? He'll stop eventually," Miroku called towards Kagome's open bedroom, where he caught a glimpse of her lifting her head up from her desk only to drop it down in annoyance. Miroku winced despite himself. That girl. Ever the drama queen. Whenever she acted like this, she reminded him a lot of some of the older guys at work, who all had a similar knack for bitching about the littlest things.

But that was besides the point.

Miroku paused in chopping carrots – they were going to have curry for lunch and there was nothing Kagome could do about it – to listen for the incessant noise again. Surely enough, after his ears took a few seconds to adjust to the relative silence of the apartment, he heard it: an annoying muted combination of heavy footsteps, muffled banging, as if someone didn't care enough where they were dropping their things, and – ah, yes. There it was. The guitar. And that whiny voice.

"You know what, I think he's getting better," Miroku commented sardonically, resuming his chopping.

"Don't get funny with me, Miroku," Kagome called back spitefully, finally getting up from her desk chair to approach her room's threshold. She leaned against the frame of the door and massaged the bridge of her nose right between her eyebrows, her face the picture of unfiltered and unadulterated irritation.

"Oh, come on, Kagome," Miroku said cheerfully. "Let the guy have a little fun. He clearly loves this song. He's clearly a dedicated individual. And he clearly–"

"–has _no_ sense of time," Kagome interrupted quickly, one hand rising up in a silencing motion. "Whenever I wake up, he's playing. Whenever I'm getting ready for bed, he's playing. When we're in the middle of lunch, he's playing! He _has_ no _life_ , and no amount of musical appreciation is worth living through this!"

Miroku gave her a tired look and didn't spare her a word, instead beckoning with his chin for her to come help with the cooking. Kagome huffed at the sheer lack of response to her raging but stepped forward, tying up her hair and snapping the hair tie in place as she came to stand next to him.

"You can't tell me it doesn't bother you," she continued, opening the cupboards to retrieve another cutting board and more utensils before grabbing the nearest potato to start peeling.

"Of course it bothers me," Miroku affirmed with a scoff. "It's the same old song with a few of the same tentative covers over and over again for the last couple of months."

"Five months," Kagome confirmed.

"The last five months," Miroku amended. "But I, like any other normal human being, can tune it out."

Kagome pursed her lips while she turned the potato in her hands.

"If you were a normal human being, you'd come with me upstairs to talk some sense into the guy."

"And do what, scold him?" Miroku laughed.

"We're not his parents. _You_ can go ahead but I'm not making the effort," he teased her, knowing fully well that Kagome didn't like confrontations.

"You know I don't like confrontations," Kagome muttered.

"And besides, we wouldn't scold him. We'd…" she broke off momentarily and frowned in thought, the peeler pausing in her hands, potato half-skinless, trying to come up an excuse to go upstairs and yell at the so-called musician living above them.

Miroku just managed to keep a grin from rising to his face.

"Worst case scenario?" he began. "You'll just get used to it. You know, like white noise."

Kagome didn't reply to him directly, instead resuming her work on the mostly-naked potato in her hand, but Miroku could see the slightly defiant look in her eye and heard her petulantly mumble something that vaguely sounded like, "I don't _wanna_ get used to it."

This time he did sigh as loudly as he could, catching her attention, after which he arched an irritated eyebrow at her, and held his hand out for the now-peeled potato. She passed it to him sheepishly but before she could move to grab the next one, Miroku interrupted her.

"Actually could you turn the radio on first? My show's on in a few minutes," he requested, slicing the potato in half.

"Again with this radio show!" Kagome, happy to change the topic, exclaimed with a teasing lilt to her voice even as she walked over to mess with the radio sitting on the bookshelf in their living room.

"Did I tell you that the girls at the clinic call it 'The Pervert's FM Radio'?"

"I resent that," Miroku scoffed. "That show is sophisticated, witty, and offers some of the best relationship advice I've heard since my Uncle Mushin passed away."

Facing away from Miroku, Kagome raised her eyebrows and sucked in a short breath through her teeth, muttering a small _wow_ under her breath.

"That just explains why all the girls you bring home never stay home, right?" Kagome continued patronizingly, finally reaching Miroku's requested station and toggling the volume to a decent level where they could still converse easily but also drown out the fake musician upstairs.

"Now, now," Miroku said with a warning tone as he finished up with his share of the potatoes. "Don't start speaking ill of Uncle Mushin and his wily ways with women, bless his soul."

"Oh, please," Kagome waved off Miroku's dramatics and walked back to the kitchen counter. "I loved your uncle. I'm speaking ill of _your_ gross ways with women, bless _your_ soul."

Miroku couldn't really say much to that, especially since he didn't have a current girlfriend (read: hadn't had a steady one in years). It didn't help that the other side of his bed had been very much empty for the last month or so, but Miroku knew a losing battle when he saw one.

"You win this round, Lady Kagome," he conceded with a gentle roll of his eyes. "Though I'm starting to wonder if you even want me to find my soulmate with all this talk of my 'gross' ways with women - which is totally unfair, by the way."

Kagome threw him a look that said _Is it?_ and moved to start peeling the rest of the potatoes before realizing that there were, in fact, a lot of potatoes.

"We're having curry, right?" Kagome asked, ignoring Miroku's comment about her views on his relationship status.

"Yeah, why?"

"Why did you buy enough potatoes to feed the clinic?" Kagome eyed him suspiciously. Miroku opened his mouth, probably to argue that there were only enough potatoes to feed, say, four people, but Kagome interrupted him before he could breathe a word.

"Miroku," Kagome started, her tone dangerously and deceivingly patient.

"Are we expecting guests?" she asked dryly. "Particularly of the female kind?"

"Kagome, Kagome," Miroku laughed. "You wound me with your lack of faith."

"Then what's with the tuber overload, hm?" Kagome demanded, narrowing her eyes. Miroku gulped and for a second contemplated just putting the extra potatoes away.

"Hear me out, okay?" he began. "You remember our lovely neighbors at 50A?"

Kagome shut her eyes and groaned before he even finished his sentence.

" _Do_ I remember our 50A neighbors?" she repeated. "Don't tell me you've invited them over for lunch."

"Not yet," Miroku admitted, "but I was planning to."

Kagome took a deep breath through her nose and let it out slowly as she placed her new potato and the peeler back on the counter. She gave Miroku a blank stare, holding his cautious gaze for a good few seconds before turning around swiftly and heading for the front door.

Miroku rolled his eyes.

" _Where_ are you going?" he called to her.

"Out."

"Out where? This is almost ready."

"Then you don't need my help," Kagome said, slipping out of her house slippers and setting them neatly to the side. Miroku sighed and, wiping his hands on his jeans, circled around the kitchen counter and rushed after Kagome, feeling a vague sense of deja vu. Kagome haphazardly stuffed her feet into the nearest pair of outdoor slippers – Miroku's favorite purple ones – and reached out for the door handle.

"What is so wrong about inviting them over for a nice and friendly lunch on this nice and friendly Saturday?" Miroku asked. Kagome glared at him and kept her grip on the door handle but made no move to leave.

"Oh, I don't know, just that the _last_ time we saw them, they met me as the weird, horny girl who didn't know how to prepare for an interview other than to sleep with the first man she saw!"

"Technically not the first man," Miroku corrected her quietly.

"The first _decent_ man," Kagome said through gritted teeth and narrowed eyes. Miroku merely laughed shortly at her retort and stepped in front of her.

"Kagome, come on," he reasoned. "That was weeks ago! They've probably forgotten about it by now."

"Would _you_ have forgotten about it?" she tested him, eyes wide and challenging. Miroku froze for just a brief moment and almost - almost! - allowed himself a small smile before recovering and fixing his features, but Kagome caught the half second when his face betrayed his following words and glared at him.

"Of course I would have!" he cried.

Kagome didn't even bother to deign that with a response, instead making a face at her roommate and reaching out to unlock the door.

"Kagome, Kagome – aren't you always telling me to be the bigger person?" Miroku tried one last time.

Kagome looked at him confusedly. Apparently he really wanted this lunch to happen.

"Well, now's your chance to set an example _for_ me by coming inside, being a good host, and helping me prepare the curry," Miroku said determinedly.

"I don't even _like_ curry," Kagome said in response to his pleading, finally yanking the door open and stepping out into the hallway. She was ready to end the conversation there, ready to shut the door in Miroku's conniving little face and leave him to his scheming ways, but before she even finished speaking, the door to 50A flew open, revealing a snarling, irritated face that Kagome was pretty sure mirrored her own just a few minutes earlier, framed by flyaway strands of silver hair that had come free from a loose ponytail.

Their neighbor – the one with that stupid name, Inuyasha? – stormed by, not even sparing them a glance, and furiously made his way down the hall and around the corner to the stairwell.

From inside 50A came a frantic voice, "Would you _relax_ and come back here!? The landlord still likes us! Inuyasha!"

Inuyasha's lovely roommate with the light eyes and dark hair, piled in a messy bun on top of her head today, rushed out into the middle of the hallway to yell after him, stopping abruptly upon noticing her neighbors from 50B staring after them.

In yet another bout of deja vu, Miroku shook himself out of a brief trance when he realized that he and Kagome were staring at Sango's exposed legs – again. He didn't know why he was surprised; it was a pleasant summer day, not too hot that they needed to keep the AC on, but still warm enough to dress lightly.

Very lightly.

Dragging his eyes half-heartedly from Sango's toned and glowing skin, Miroku nudged Kagome in the side with his elbow sharply, eliciting an annoyed "Ow!" from her before clearing his throat. He could make out the faint _thump thump thump_ of a certain neighbor's angry footsteps heading upstairs.

"He seems to be in a hurry," Miroku commented lightly, not bothering to keep the amusement out of his voice.

Sango sighed in agreement, one hand coming up to brush some baby hairs away from her forehead, the other loosely holding a thin paperback book between slender fingers. She cocked her hip and the hem of today's oversized t-shirt shifted just a little, barely a centimeter, but Kagome and Miroku's eyes followed the movement like two curious hawks. The shirt was a soft lavender color and was just large enough to drape down to Sango's thighs but also fitted her form well enough that Miroku couldn't help but wonder if it was hers or someone else's.

(A boyfriend's? Inuyasha's? Miroku shuddered.)

"He's been working a lot of late nights at the station this month," Sango said as a way of explaining. From above, the three heard a series of sharp thuds of what was likely Inuyasha knocking aggressively on the fake musician's door.

"He's been remarkably patient these past few months," Sango continued conversationally. "For him, at least."

There was some muffled screaming upstairs that the three chose to ignore. Kagome gazed upwards and quirked an curious eyebrow at Inuyasha's behavior.

"Gosh, it's just a little music," she said, shaking her head in amusement, noticing Miroku's eyes flickering over to her. "I just tune it out, like a normal person."

"That's exactly what I tell him to do!" Sango agreed wholeheartedly.

Miroku sent Kagome a dirty look, the dirtiest she'd ever received from him since that one time she'd kicked out one of his girlfriends, an exchange student from England who spoke terrible Japanese and kept trying to steal her clothes.

With a slight shake of his head, Miroku turned his attention to Sango.

"Out of curiosity, have you and Inuyasha had lunch yet?" he asked.

Kagome rolled her eyes next to Miroku and barely covered up a small scoff. There was a pause in the banging upstairs, presumably the tenants coming to the door (bless them) to get Inuyasha to shut up.

"No, not yet," Sango replied. "We were thinking of ordering pizza. Normally one of us cooks but Saturday's our lazy day."

"Oh! Well," Miroku sent a pleased smile in her direction. "We're having curry, and there should be enough for all four of us."

It was Kagome's turn to throw Miroku a dirty look; the patented Higurashi package, complete with the curled lip, arched eyebrow, and unimpressed frown.

To his disappointment, Sango shook her head gently with a strange smile.

"Thank you for your offer, but Inuyasha _hates_ curry," she said in an oddly amused voice, and for some reason, the way she said it almost convinced Miroku that Inuyasha really _did_ hate curry and she wasn't just making excuses.

Before he could ask her if _she_ liked curry, Kagome jumped in.

"Oh, well that's just _too bad_ , isn't it, Miroku?" she said in a tone of _one-hundred-percent honest_ disappointment, the look of dismay on her face a reflection of her _truly genuine_ regret at missing a chance to share beef curry with the neighbors from 50A.

Miroku narrowed his eyes at Kagome's light teasing, especially in front of such a beautiful woman, but Sango seemed to catch on and laughed at her antics.

"It's alright, you'll just have to let us know when you're making something else. He really likes ramen and udon so if you know of some good places near the area, we'd love to know," she said. That seemed to pacify Miroku for the time-being, although his handsome features still drooped sourly with his disappointment.

"Anyway, where are you guys going?" Sango asked abruptly, addressing Kagome's slippers and the pair's general presence outside of their home. "Hopefully not to scream at other neighbors like we're doing apparently."

Kagome blinked, like a deer caught in headlights, or a deer that had just been asked a completely reasonable question by an intimidatingly beautiful woman.

"We were gonna … I was gonna … um–"

Faltering and having completely lost track of what she and Miroku had previously been arguing about before she'd stepped outside, she turned to him with a blank look. He simply looked at her and helpfully blinked in silence.

"I was going to the convenience store?" she finished, with no help at all from Miroku. Sango frowned prettily at the questioning lilt in Kagome's voice as the other girl continued to struggle.

"To get some, uh…"

"Milk!" Miroku offered very helpfully when Kagome left her sentence unfinished. She turned to him slowly, mouthing _Milk?_ behind gritted teeth and incensed eyes.

Sango bit her lip to keep from smiling.

"Milk, again?" she asked, raising her empty hand to cover her growing smile behind a loose fist.

"Yes," Kagome confirmed, still glaring at Miroku. "Again, apparently."

"Actually!" Sango snapped her fingers suddenly, catching their attention. "Which convenient store do you normally go to? The closest one I know of is the MiniStop near the train station but it doesn't always have the best food."

"Oh, if you go the other way, around the back of the complex and through the park, there's a Lawson across the road!" Kagome said, pointing into the air in roughly in the direction of the convenient store.

"Really?" Sango frowned, thinking back to the neighborhood and wondering how she could have missed a bright blue and white Lawson sign during her morning runs.

Kagome nodded.

"It's on a small street, so it's a little hidden away. I can show you sometime, if you want?"

"I can just go with you now," Sango offered, moving towards 50A's front door.

"Oh! Yeah, of course!" Kagome nodded eagerly.

Sango smiled and gestured to her apartment with her thumb.

"Let me just get my wallet and put some shorts on," she said with a slightly bashful smile and disappeared into her apartment, leaving her two neighbors in a sense of awe and with a great view of the back of her legs before the door closed. Miroku let out a low whistle.

"That's some woman."

Kagome was about to snap at Miroku and then probably gloat about her new friend when Inuyasha and his incredible ponytail suddenly appeared from around the corner and started making his way down the hall. Judging by the annoyed and resigned look on his face, Miroku and Kagome guessed that the confrontation didn't go well.

"Any luck with our future Grammy award winner?" Miroku asked cautiously but not unkindly. Inuyasha stopped in his tracks, drawing Kagome's attention to his slipper-less bare feet, and glanced at Miroku before scoffing and rubbing the back of his neck with a slight air of shame.

"It's just a kid," he muttered in response.

"A what?" Kagome asked. He looked at her, still frowning, though she knew it wasn't directed at her in particular. Or she hoped.

"He's a kid," he repeated sharply. "A fifteen year old kid who literally picked up a guitar five months ago to practice for band club auditions."

50B's tenants were silent for a grand total of three seconds before opening their damn mouths.

"He's terrible," Miroku concluded.

"They're not going to accept him," Kagome added.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, a little taken aback by his neighbors' bluntness.

"You think that matters? I can't do much but ask his parents to tell him to cut it out in the evenings."

Miroku sighed, "We've lived with it for five months now, the best we can do is just hope it'll stop after the auditions."

Kagome turned to Inuyasha and addressed him before she could lose her cool.

"Thank you for trying, anyway," she said. "I was almost ready to go up and confront him myself."

Inuyasha completely missed the hilariously incredulous and disbelieving look Miroku flung in Kagome's general direction.

"Um," Inuyasha mumbled, eyeing Kagome warily, no doubt thinking about the first time he'd officially met her. "Right."

 _Eloquent_ , Kagome thought drily just as Sango exited the apartment, still in the same t-shirt, now neatly tucked into a pair of denim shorts. Miroku's sour mood improved ever so slightly at the sight of the shorts, and despite the fact that they covered some of her skin, he quickly came to appreciate how the denim hugged Sango's physical assets and showed off her legs nicely.

Sango, seemingly oblivious to his observations, slipped into a pair of flip flops and looked up at Inuyasha with narrowed eyes.

"You didn't hurt anyone, did you?" she asked suspiciously. Inuyasha shot her an annoyed look and crossed his arms.

"What do you think? I'm off duty," he snapped. "And where the hell are you going?"

"To buy milk," Kagome answered, smiling cheekily at Miroku before turning to Sango. Miroku mocked her after she'd turned away, to which Sango laughed quietly.

"Kagome kindly offered to show me where the Lawson is so we can stop buying shitty rice balls from MiniStop and get real convenience store food," Sango explained, zipping open her wallet quickly to check that she had cash. "You want anything?"

"Keh!" Inuyasha scoffed. Kagome and Miroku frowned. What was his problem?

"…One of those _karaage_ bite-sized things," Inuyasha eventually mumbled. Sango smirked as if she'd known.

"And not–"

"The spicy ones, I know," Sango finished for him, still smirking as she reached out for Kagome's arm and led the two of them down the hall and away from the boys, reaching out to ruffle Inuyasha's head as she passed him, drawing out an annoyed frown from him.

"Don't wait for me, you can eat whenever you want!" she called back.

As they walked away, Inuyasha wasn't sure but he thought he heard Sango ask Kagome, "So, what's the deal with you and your roommate?" before the two disappeared around the corner.

Inuyasha rolled his eyes before realizing said roommate was still standing outside in the hallway with him. Momentarily abandoned by their respective female roommates, they stood awkwardly for a second before Miroku cleared his throat shortly and offered a loose smile.

"So…" he started. Inuyasha braced himself.

"You and Sango," Miroku continued. Inuyasha cocked an eyebrow.

Miroku tilted his head to prompt Inuyasha. "Are you guys … y'know?"

"Sleeping together?" Inuyasha filled in without hesitation, his eyes dangerously protective slits. "What's it to you?"

"Oh, nothing!" Miroku said easily. "Nothing at all."

Scoffing at Miroku's transparency but unable to quell his own curiosity, Inuyasha fires his own question.

"What about you and … Kagome?"

"Hm? Oh, no, no – she's like my sister," Miroku said, laughing. Inuyasha nodded once; so did Miroku.

They stood again in a silence that was more than slightly awkward when Miroku remembered the whole reason he was standing outside in the first place.

"Anyway, you were upstairs when I asked Sango, but we're making curry for lunch. You and Sango are both welcome to join us when the girls get back," Miroku said, pleased to finally make his offer, only to be sorely let down when Inuyasha scoffed out loud in amused disbelief.

"You're – you're kidding right?" Inuyasha squinted, ready to laugh if this was some kind of bad joke.

Miroku also squinted his eyes, but in wary confusion, and replied with a tentative "No?"

Maybe Sango really had been telling the truth about Inuyasha's averseness to curry.

Inuyasha paused, fixed Miroku with a look that could only be translated as _What the fuck are you even saying?_ , and shook his head.

"Pass," he said brusquely, breezing by and entering his apartment, shutting the door with an offended bang, leaving Miroku with an empty hallway, foiled plans, and curry for four.

In the deafening silence of the hallway, Miroku considered his rough luck, quickly analyzed the group's conversation, and decided this was all a good thing. He'd have his curry now, and would have a feast with Kagome and the 50A residents later, in due time.

After all, like Uncle Mushin always taught him: he may lose some battles, but he could still win the—

–An off-tune whine from upstairs signalled the start of a new acoustic piece, interrupting Miroku's musings as the young musician upstairs started a freshly irritating rendition of the same song.

With a resigned sigh, Miroku went back inside, back to his radio show, his unpeeled potatoes, and his restless new thoughts about glowing skin, thin paperbacks, easy laughs, and the color lavender.

 

 

_\- fin -_

 

 

[ **Glossary** ]

  * **MiniStop** and **Lawson** \- very common convenience stores in Japan
  * _**karaage**_  ; からあげ ; “ka-RAH-geh” - deep fried chicken; Inuyasha is referring to _karaage-kun_ , Lawson’s brand of fried chicken bites, which are fucking delicious



[Bonus: **Chapter Epilogue** ]

 _inuyasha_ : you were gone for a while  
 **sango** : kagome showed me her fav cafe and we chilled for like 5 hours  
 _inuyasha_ : clearly  
 **sango** : what've u been up to  
 _inuyasha_ : miroku tried to invite me to have curry can you believe that  
 **sango** : lol ikr who even likes curry  
 _inuyasha_ : u get along well with her?  
 **sango** : kagome?  
 _inuyasha_ : ye  
 **sango** : yeah she's pretty  
 _inuyasha_ : pretty what  
 **sango** : just pretty  
 _inuyasha_ : …  
 **sango** : lol she's really nice you'd like her  
 _inuyasha_ : idk … they feel a little weird to me  
 **sango** : not just a little, they're both really odd  
 _inuyasha_ : yeah i don't need that in my life  
 **sango** : lol same, but they're not bad people  
 _inuyasha_ : right. anyway there's leftover lasagna in the fridge  
 **sango** : cool u eat already?  
 _inuyasha_ : ya  
 **sango** : is the kid gonna be loud again tonight  
 _inuyasha_ : probably  
 **sango** : and u won't get mad?  
 _inuyasha_ : there's nothing i can do anymore  
 **sango** : good. u need to chill out  
 _inuyasha_ : ladies first

[End scene]


End file.
